Honestly, the hatred between these two isn't all that hard to understand—it's just damn near impossible to fix.
Mystique's been a spy for years, slipping in and out of government facilities like it's her daily workout. She's seen, firsthand, what happens to mutants after they're caught. It's not pretty.
She's rescued plenty, formed bonds with some… only to watch them get hunted down and killed anyway.
That kind of thing carves bitterness deep into your bones. So yeah, her hatred for Natasha—one of the people out there actually capturing mutants—is sky-high.
But it's not a one-sided thing. Natasha's got her own scars. She's seen mutants go off the rails—some losing control and turning schools into bloodbaths, others destroying their families without meaning to.
And the worst are those with a power complex, thinking they're above everyone else just because they can bend metal or walk through walls.
Natasha's dealt with some real nightmares—mutants hypnotizing young women, committing horrific crimes, threatening innocent lives just because they could.
She's been on missions where her teammates died one after another. She might not have been best friends with them, but she knew their hopes, their dreams, the families they wanted to go home to. That stays with you.
Still, her hatred didn't truly boil over until Magneto took over Cape Citadel. After that, it was a bloodbath. So many innocent lives lost for crimes they didn't even commit.
Even now, she sometimes wonders if the government propaganda might have a sliver of truth. Maybe some mutants are that dangerous.
But thankfully, both Mystique and Natasha have been around long enough to know how to keep their emotions in check. Mystique didn't push any further, and Natasha played it cool—like Mystique wasn't even there.
Of course, that left only two people stuck in the middle of the world's most uncomfortable silence: Wanda and Pietro.
Poor twins. Wanda's an introvert, and Pietro, while loud and fast, doesn't exactly have a PhD in people skills—especially not after being locked up for years. Now toss them into this emotionally charged standoff between two powerful women with mutual trauma? Yeah. No thank you.
Right when they were silently begging the universe for an escape route, one quite literally fell from the sky.
Ororo. Storm. Badass.
Wanda glanced up at her, instantly recognizing her. Hela had talked about her—a queen in her own right, someone on par with Magneto. One of the future big names in Hel, apparently.
But she didn't have that stuck-up royal vibe. No dramatic entrance, no holier-than-thou look. She felt more like the super cool big sister from next door who somehow also controls the weather. At least, that's how Mystique saw her.
Mystique was actually the first to greet her, nodding with a rare, friendly gesture. Ororo, as expected, returned it with an easy smile and a calm nod.
Then she spoke like they were planning a picnic, not standing in the middle of tension central. "So… you guys have a plan or what?"
Considering the people present—Hela's personal favorite, a top SHIELD agent who's fought more mutants than anyone should, and the Brotherhood's second-in-command—yeah, these were some major players. Ororo showing up made sense.
"We were discussing food distribution," Wanda said, sounding a little unsure. But honestly? She liked Ororo more than Mystique or Natasha. She didn't come with all the complications.
"Food?" a new voice joined them, so sudden it made everyone freeze.
And that was weird. Between a spy, superhuman senses, and people with magic, no one should've been able to sneak up on them.
And yet… there she was. A girl. Young. Wearing glasses. The kind that should make her look like a nerd—but somehow, she pulled off 'mysteriously cool' instead.
To Wanda and Ororo, though, it wasn't her style that stood out. It was the feeling she gave off. Magic. Strong magic. Ororo especially could sense the odd vibes rolling off this girl.
Still, the stranger seemed more shy than threatening, shrinking a little under the attention. "Sorry," she mumbled. "I just heard you talking about food and… well, I couldn't help myself. I'm Gali."
Then her eyes locked onto the mountain of supplies nearby, and—yep—this tall, elegant beauty actually drooled. Just a little. But still. Somehow, it was both adorable and mildly shocking.
Wanda blinked, caught completely off guard. But strangely… something clicked. Like she was looking at a confidant she should've met years ago.
"Nice to meet you, I'm Wanda. Sooo… we were kind of struggling with how to handle this mountain of food." She gave a small, sheepish laugh. "It's a lot. But, uh… the real issue is that we don't have any plates."
This time, Wanda sounded warmer—more relaxed, like how she talked with her brother Pietro.
It was probably because she had a good impression of the mysterious woman in front of her, who didn't seem much older than she was.
Gali gave a small nod. Among everyone here, she was definitely the strongest—no question about it.
She had so many abilities it was almost unfair, and one of the most basic was something all real powerhouses had: the ability to sense people's feelings toward you. Hatred. Killing intent. Curiosity. Goodwill. You name it.
So she was a bit surprised—pleasantly so—when she picked up that Wanda was giving off a friendly vibe. Not just polite-friendly, but genuinely warm, like she was meeting an old friend she hadn't seen in years. That made Gali smile.
"Oh, that's easy," she said casually, then added with a playful glint in her eyes, "I can help… but I have one condition."
To prove she wasn't just flexing, she casually conjured a plate out of thin air. Just like that.
Everyone present paused.
Even in this world of superpowers and oddities, creating an object from nothing like it was a magic trick? That was still a big deal.
Wanda let out a soft "Oh…"
Pietro thought she looked cool as hell.
Ororo (Storm) tilted her head, wondering if it was magic.
Mystique was silently hoping she was a mutant.
Natasha was already mentally evaluating how dangerous Gali might be.
And Magneto? He had no clue any of this was happening—too busy in the sky basking in the vibes like some kind of stoic aura farmer.
"Wow, are you a mutant? What's your power?" Mystique asked with surprising enthusiasm—almost childlike, which was hilarious, considering Gali could totally sense her real emotions.
But Gali didn't mind. Mystique wasn't being hostile, and that was good enough.
"Nope, not a mutant," she replied with a small shrug. "And my power is… well, it's a little special. Hard to explain. Anyway, what do you think?"
She had no intention of diving into her origin story right now. Not relevant. And judging by the looks on everyone's faces, they probably wouldn't get it even if she did explain.
Still, she couldn't help but briefly think of Hela. The goddess definitely knew she was here… but hadn't shown up. Honestly, a relief.
Gali wasn't in the mood for drama. She just came for the food—straight from Hel's kitchen—and maybe to see if there was anything weird or powerful enough to actually satisfy her hunger. If not, she'd just go back to Earth.
Mystique looked a bit disappointed to hear Gali wasn't a mutant—but also more intrigued than before. Still, she could sense that Gali didn't want to talk about it, so she didn't push.
"So what exactly is your condition?" Wanda asked, her voice curious but steady. She figured someone this confident wouldn't make an outrageous demand… right?
Wrong.
Wanda had clearly underestimated how weird this day could get.
"I want one-tenth of the food," Gali said seriously… then hesitated. "No… make it one-fifth."
She blinked, looked a little unsure. Even a little shy. But the truth was, she was barely holding herself back from diving into the food pile like a starving beast. She might only last another five minutes before she snapped and went full vacuum cleaner mode.
Everyone just… stared.
That wasn't what they expected. At all.
Wanda especially. One-fifth of everything? Just what the hell did she plan to do with it? There's no way it was just to eat… right?
Unless her stomach was secretly the size of a small moon, that didn't make any sense.
Pietro, being Pietro, blurted out the question on everyone's mind: "What do you want to do with all that food?"
Gali looked at him like he'd just asked if the sun was wet. But she humored him. "I need it to recharge my energy."
Then she added, as if it was the most normal thing in the world, "Let's just say I can create plates… but it drains me. Unless I eat a lot of high-level food, I won't do it."
Okay. That part was only half true.
Yeah, creating plates did cost her cosmic energy. But honestly? If she made three million plates, she'd only need to eat about 500 to recharge what she spent.
But after spending time on Earth and seeing how capitalism works, she didn't feel guilty at all about asking for a little extra. If anything, wanting more than a million plates' worth of food was practically modest by corporate standards.
...
Yahoo! I think I've found the writing method that suits me best. I tried it today, and so far, there doesn't seem to be a problem—hopefully, it's not just wishful thinking.
Anyway, with a new week starting, my goal is to release a chapter every day, at least getting back to how things were before the pause.
And please don't forget to vote!